


Day 378: And Now, Tomorrow

by tzikeh



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Other, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide2006, recipient:Brenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzikeh/pseuds/tzikeh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello there, fans of <i>Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.</i> We are gathered here today because I've got letters that some of you mailed to Centron, asking "When's the sequel coming out, Harry?" The thing is, the movie made like, twenty-two cents profit, and Perry and I didn't want to do one of those straight-to-video things. I put some time into scoring a book contract, but that was ultimately unsuccessful (see: twenty-two cents profit), so I'm putting "what happened after the credits rolled" on the World Wide Web, because you, the faithful audience who paid to see the movie in the theaters, all eighteen of you, deserve a little something extra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 378: And Now, Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/gifts).



> There is no way this story would be any good at all without lydiabell, who has beta reading down to both an art and a science. Many thanks also to shrift and to francesca for notes and support.
> 
>  **PLEASE NOTE:** _Kiss Kiss Bang Bang_ was released in 2005. I had absolutely no idea that _Iron Man_ was even going to ever be a movie, let alone that it would star Robert Downey Jr. So, no, the "Iron Man" reference is not supposed to be meta. It's just unfortunate.

_Hello there, fans of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. We are gathered here today because I've got letters that some of you mailed to Centron, asking "When's the sequel coming out, Harry?" The thing is, the movie made like, twenty-two cents profit, and Perry and I didn't want to do one of those straight-to-video things. I put some time into scoring a book contract, but that was ultimately unsuccessful (see: twenty-two cents profit), so I'm putting "what happened after the credits rolled" on the World Wide Web, because you, the faithful audience who paid to see the movie in the theaters, all eighteen of you, deserve a little something extra. Because you went to your local multiplex and thought, "Screw The Constant Gardener and Brokeback Mountain and Walk the Line and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Batman Begins, I'm going to see this movie I've never heard of!" (Which, by the way, a big fuck-you-very-much to Warner Brothers for that release date and complete lack of promotion.) Oh, and The 40 Year Old Virgin was still playing,too; but then, who bet on that having legs?_

_Perry didn't help our box office any; he went to see Brokeback about four million times and didn't see our movie even once. His bullshit excuse was that he'd already seen our movie because he was you know, there, and I said he'd also seen two guys screwing because he was, you know, there, too, so then we had a fight about supporting mainstream movies about gay people and I said that our movie was a mainstream movie about gay people, or at least a gay person, and it wasn't like _Brokeback_ needed his money and then he smacked the back of my head and I called him a gay, gay, gay man which, admittedly, is not very creative but I'd just been smacked, so, whatever. He kept taking "friends" to see All The Pretty Cowboys and I got to take All The Boring Stakeouts._

_Oh, right! I should tell you about this; Perry thinks that I've learned enough to do the low-end P.I. jobs on my own now. Turns out I'm pretty good at all this, despite my rocky start, much of which you were privy to. I've also learned that a one-in-six chance is not the same thing as an eight-percent chance, not that it matters anymore. Does it make any sense to put that part here? Whatever. Robot. The point is, I've been soloing on some stakeouts. Okay, I'm rambling a bit here; let me go back and set the "what happened next" scene for you. Jesus, even with a delete key I'm still the world's shittiest narrator. ( **NOTE TO SELF** : take like, half of this out.)_

_Wait—I gotta quickly mention this to you viewers—readers—it is so weird to type what I'm thinking like it's what I would be saying, without editing or anything, but I'm trying to keep this whole "stay organic to the feel of the movie" thing going, because if you're bothering to read this then chances are good that you enjoyed the movie, and I don't want to disappoint you. Oh, if you're reading this and you haven't seen the movie yet then open another tab in your browser and go add it to your Netflix queue, because Centron gets a small cut of that (Perry was smart enough to ask for a backend deal, which sounds like a bad gay joke and I guess it is one but it's also true, so put a lid on it, Sparky). And if you're reading this and you **haven't** seen the movie, what's up with that? Something's wrong with you. Anyway._

_Oh I should **also** tell you that I got this prosthetic thing for my finger so that I can type. The first time Perry saw it he laughed so hard I thought he was going to stroke out, but instead he started calling me Holly Hunter, which, you know, ha ha I get it but FUCK, I'm supposed to be setting the scene here. Jesus._

_It's a year after the Case of the Dead People in L.A., Perry's just apologized to the Midwest, the credits roll, aaaaand... action._

* * *

"Anyway, this alternator thing is a fucking bummer, and even though I offered to do the shopping and pick up the dry cleaning, you know how Harmony has, uh, a very special relationship with her car, so she had to drop me here this morning and has to pick me up tonight and she's bitching and moaning about having to do all the errands—"

"Harry, I did, in fact, both hear and comprehend this oh-so-boring story the _other_ two times you told it today. Unless you have plans to take up surfing, you must stop using the word 'bummer'. And if you have any reverence at all for the beauty of the majestic Pacific Ocean, you will not, for the love of all that's holy, take up surfing."

"—so I told Harmony that she should park and come in instead of calling from the car, and the three of us could order in some Thai and some beer and kick back. She's been going on about how she hasn't seen much of me in weeks and she hasn't seen you at all in what, a month? So: Thai, beer, maybe see what's on HBO? I mean, you and me, we deserve some serious downtime after our whole Iron Man thing."

Which was true. The case they'd just closed, while not intellectually complex, had involved an inordinate amount of running and swimming and, rather surprisingly, biking. Harry sprained his wrist when he was thrown from his cycle after hitting a large tree root, and Perry's brand-new five-hundred-and-sixty-dollar Gianfranco Ferré's were history, thanks to the aforementioned swimming. The story about the busted alternator, Thai food, and beer was a lie, though—concocted to get the three of them in the same place at the same time for more than five minutes.

Harry had proposed, and Harmony had said yes (in point of fact, she had said "Duh!", but that counts as a yes), and they wanted to surprise Perry with the news before they told anyone else. Then Harry would ask Perry to be his best man, and Perry would call him an idiot (or possibly a fuckhead, or Holly Hunter, though probably not Holly Hunter because Harry wouldn't be wearing his typing finger), and then they'd pop the cork on an upper-middle-class bottle of champagne and have a toast. Harmony and Perry could talk about color schemes and meal options and whether or not to have a live band, and Harry would lay his head in Harmony's lap and close his eyes and stay blissfully out of the whole wedding-planning part of having a wedding. He wanted to wait for the Thai food to arrive before springing the news on Perry, though; he tended to lose his ability to form most consonants when he drank champagne on an empty stomach. He'd definitely need consonants for "best" and "man".

Harmony got to Perry's at seven and flung her arms around him as soon as he opened the door.

"Hi, Perry!" She stepped back and kissed him. "You're a bastard! Keeping Harry out at all hours; I never see him anymore." She flung her coat over an armchair. Perry picked it up and hung it in the closet as Harmony kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the big, off-white leather couch. "Did Harry ask you about dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, he's probably on the phone to the Thai place now."

"Hi Harmony! I'm ordering Thai now!" Harry shouted down the stairs. Harmony and Perry grinned at each other. She wiggled her toes at him, and he sat down at the other end of the couch and took one of her feet in his hands.

"Day sucked?"

Harmony closed her eyes. "Perry, if I knew a guy who sucked as hard as my day, I would hook you up and you would would owe me until you died." Perry laughed. "Maybe even from beyond the grave."

Laughing a bit more, he pressed his thumbs under Harmony's toes, which made her squirm and moan.

"You are _really_ easy to please, which is extremely lucky for Harry."

She stuck her tongue out at him without bothering to open her eyes. "Maybe you have a natural talent for this, did you ever think of that? Did you ever think about giving up all the detective stuff and doing this for a living?"

"What, becoming a professional ball-rubber?" Harmony gave a loud, throaty laugh. "There are already plenty of those."

"Well, you're terrific. I bet you'd make good money."

"Possibly. I rarely rub women's balls, though, so you should take this as a compliment." Harmony laughed harder and kicked him. "Hey! Kicking is not an incentive to keep being nice to you."

"Ohhhh, yeahhh, I forgot: Perry van Schriek: King Bastard. Limited quantities of nice per day."

"It's on my business cards."

She sighed and poked him with her other foot, and he switched over. "I bet there are lots of women in this town who would pay you to do this to them."

"Probably. There are plenty of women in this town with balls."

"Oh my God there really are, and I have worked parties for every single one of them. You want me to give you their numbers?"

"I'm sure I have them in the client database; their husbands hire me to find out where their balls went...."

Harry came down the stairs to more peals of Harmony's laughter. "What's funny?"

"Balls," Perry said without looking up, while Harmony kept laughing.

"Well, sure, balls are nature's little comedians. Hi, honey," Harry kissed Harmony and sat on the floor beside her. "I see you're taking advantage of Perry. That's a nice change around here."

"Bite me."

"Nah, the Thai will be here in twenty minutes. And Perry, I'm next, so don't think you're getting a break anytime soon."

"Want me to rub your balls too?"

"Hey, shithead, we pinky-swore we would never mention that in front of—" Harry jerked his thumb at Harmony and stage-whispered "—the girlfriend."

"Hey, shithead, I think you mean "the fiancée", and for you, Harry, congratulations. For you, Harmony, I have the cell numbers of several of L.A.'s finest psychiatrists because honey, you know I love you, but you've obviously lost your critical faculties."

Perry kept rubbing Harmony's foot and pretended not to notice that both she and Harry were staring at him with their mouths open.

* * *

_Yes, fine, my brilliant ruse wasn't all that brilliant. I planned it at ass o'clock in the morning and Perry's a detective, okay? And, all right, I admit it, I kinda fucked it up._

* * *

Harmony sat bolt upright. "Fuck, Harry, did you tell him without me?"

"No! I didn't—I didn't!" Harry turned, wide-eyed, to Perry. "I didn't tell you, did I?"

Harmony pulled her feet out of Perry's lap and kicked Harry in the shoulder.

"Ow!!"

"You can't _remember_ if you told him or not?"

"This is the man you've chosen to marry, Harmony. Look into second thoughts as an option." Harry and Harmony kept looking back and forth between one another and Perry, until he turned to Harry in exasperation. "There's a bottle of champagne in my fridge that _wasn't there_ yesterday, idiot, and three cheap-ass flutes quote-hidden-unquote behind the coffeepot."

"Harry, what the—"

Harry scuttled well away from Harmony's feet. "I brought mochas first thing this morning, so that you wouldn't make coffee... the big mocha you like with the stuff on it."

"Yeesss," Perry drawled, "and thanks for the cinnamon, always the best part, but I can see behind the coffeepot even if I _don't_ make coffee. It's almost like I have X-ray vision. Repeating your cover story three times in six hours instills _suspicion_ , Harry, not confidence, moron. This? This is why you aren't doing any undercover work yet."

Harmony dropped her head back into the couch cushions and sighed. "Guess what, Perry. We're getting married."

"No! Seriously? That's great! I always knew you crazy kids would make it work. Let's celebrate. Anyone for champagne?"

Harry got up and wandered in the general direction of the kitchen. "I think we have some in the fridge. I'll get it."

* * *

_So Perry was an asshole and ruined the surprise, which is par for the course, but I forgave him the instant I opened the fridge and found, not one, but several bottles of champagne which I had definitely not bought, all of which were well past the upper-middle-class range. There were also some dessert thingies gfhhihaavgrij okay, sorry, that was Perry punching my shoulder. Apparently, the dessert thingies are called "petty four's fag-hag" m;fgkd;ghjkl excuse me, "petits fours, fag-hag". I'm not going to finish this story until he stops staring over my shoulder at the computer screen. No, Perry, I'm not full of shit. Yes, I do think it's pretty fucking funny to answer you by typing._

_Okay, he's gone; I'd tell you he said "hi", except he didn't._

* * *

"That was... an exquisite year for champagne."

Harry opened one eye and looked up at what he could see of Perry's face. "Which one?"

"This one," Perry put the empty in Harry's outflung hand. Harry looked at the label and nodded a little.

"Yeah, that one was good."

"Don't even pretend you can tell the difference."

"I can. I could, seven glasses ago. I think. Is this the French one?"

"All champagne is French," Harmony struggled up onto her elbows and put her chin in her hands. "It has to come from Champagne, or it's not champagne. It's... something else that isn't champagne."

Harry shook his head, then decided that was a bad idea and stopped. "They make champagne in Napa Valley. That's what the bottle I bought said. Napa Valley."

"Which is why I went out and bought real champagne, Harry, because you didn't."

"It said so, right on the label, it said 'champagne'." Harry crawled over to the other empty bottles and found the one he'd bought. "See?" He rolled it toward Perry but it wound up making a slow, wobbly circle on the carpet.

Harmony watched the bottle and hummed a little laugh. "Gosh, I hope I get to kiss Harry. I think he's kinda cute." Harry put his foot out to stop the bottle. "Hmph. Spoilsport."

"Playing Spin the Bottle with two people is just making out, except you have to keep stopping to spin a bottle. Kinda defeats the purposes of both activities."

Harmony took the bottle away from Harry and spun it again. "But Perry is—"

"No, Perry is not going to play," Perry grunted, and crawled up onto the couch.

"Oh, c'mon, Perry—what if it was you and me, huh? You'd kiss me, wouldn't you?"

"I would _definitely_ kiss you, Harmony, because I know it would annoy, confuse, and vaguely arouse your fiancé, which would provide me with hours of entertainment. But, hey! See, now I don't need to kiss you, because I've just planted that image in Harry's brain, and I get my hours of entertainment anyway." Harry flipped Perry off as Perry rolled over onto his stomach and pulled a cushion under his head.

"What if I was gay? I mean, a gay guy. Perry, would you kiss me for real if I was a gay guy? I think I'd be a really hot gay guy."

"Harmony has a crush on you, Perry, but only when she gets drunk. When she gets drunk enough, she turns into a gay man. I live with the world's most pointless superhero. Drunk-Girl-Gay-Man...Girl. But I'm okay with that, because either way she wants to have sex with a guy, so it's a win-win for me."

"That's me, I'm a superhero, and you're a superhero too. You're The Amazing Harold." Harmony idly spun the bottle again.

"We even have superhero initials: HL and HL. Harry Lockhart and Harmony Lane. We won't have to get your monogrammed handtowels replaced or anything."

"I don't have monogrammed handtowels, Harry."

"You don't?" Harry's brow furrowed, and he took the bottle from Harmony and spun it again. "I thought we had monogrammed handtowels in the bathroom."

"That's me, fuckhead. _I_ have monogrammed handtowels in the bathroom."

"Really?" Harry's eyes went wide. "Oh! I thought PVS was the brand name...."

Perry buried his face in his pillow. "Harmony," Perry's voice was muffled but loud, "I'm begging you. As a friend. Get out while you can."

Harmony grabbed the bottle back. "Oh Perry, you're just jealous because Harry and I, we're superheroes." She spun the bottle again, then slammed her hand down to stop it as she gasped in mock surprise. "But, wait, Perry, you're a superhero too! You have X-ray vision!" She lifted the bottle up and pointed the neck at Harry. "What's your superpower, Amazing Harold?"

"I have many, many superpowers. For example, I can make entire bottles of champagne disappear." Harry picked up the bottle nearest to his hand. "Like this one. No, wait, I think it was another one." He crawled around the floor, moving mostly-empty Thai containers and completely empty petits fours boxes out of his way. "I can also make Thai food disappear...."

Perry turned his face to the room again. "Harry's lying; he only has one superpower. Harry is a super fag-hag."

"If Harry is a fag-hag, then that makes me a fag-hag-hag." She watched Harry crawling about mumbling to himself about making petits fours disappear, then leaned her head back onto Perry's shoulder.

"You're a fag-hag-hag-hag, Slick," Perry whispered in her ear. "A fag-hag-hag-hag-hag."

"Oh, my God, it's like Popeye! Ah-fag-hag-hag-hag-hag-hag-hag!" She laughed until she was gasping for air. "HARRY! Perry is...Perry is Popeye!"

"Can he make spinach disappear?" Harry called from under an end table.

Harmony looked across the room at Harry, or rather, at Harry's ass and bare feet, which was all she could see under the end table.

" _God_ , look at that ass. I love that ass." She raised her voice. "I love your ass, honey!"

Harry's "Thank you!" was overpowered by Perry shouting "Jesus, you're yelling right in my ear about Harry's ass!" as he sat up. "Don't do that!"

"Oh, come on, Perry. Don't you think Harry has a great ass? I mean, seriously, if you'd never met, and you saw him in a bar, wouldn't you think 'Hey, nice ass on that one'?" Harmony gestured vaguely at Harry's behind. "As an example of your gender, don't you think Harry is flat-out fucking sexy?"

* * *

_O-kay, readers, I'm pretty sure you can see where there are now a relatively limited number of choices available to our three well-lubricated protagonists. And that was a really, really bad choice of words right there and I'm sorry. Let's go with "well-inebriated". Pandora has just asked The Question From Which There is No Return, unless everyone in the room enters into some kind of demonic blood pact which ensures that, no matter what happens next, it will never, ever, ever affect their friendships or working relationships or marriages. But those kind of agreements never work._

* * *

Harry backed out from under the end table and looked at Perry, who was clearly giving the question some thought.

"Now, this is if I'd never met Harry, or heard him speak, or had had any kind of interaction with him at all, ever?"

"Right."

"I'd never heard him open his mouth and talk."

"Right."

"Okay. If I'd never met him, never heard him talk, never had any kind of interaction with him at all, and didn't know a single thing about him, then yes, I would think 'Hey, nice ass on that one'."

"See how easy that was? You think that Harry is sexy!"

Perry opened his mouth to clarify, but Harry shook his head at him and shrugged. "I warned you about her superhero mode."

"Yes, I am in superhero Popeye mode. Ah-fag-hag-hag-hag-hag-hag-hag!" Harmony lay on her back on the floor, cracking up.

Neither Perry nor Harry could stop themselves from laughing at her as Harry stood up and padded toward them. "Get a room."

"Awwww, don't be jealous, Amazing Harold. Besides, we _have_ a room, right here."

Harry sat down and smoothed Harmony's hair out of her face. "Honey, you look like—hey, wait a minute," Harry interrupted himself and looked up at Perry. "You told me months ago that you didn't find me physically attractive. I asked you right to your face, months ago. I said, 'Perry, you don't find me physically attractive, do you?' And you said, 'no, Harry, I don't find you physically attractive.'"

"I am one-hundred-percent certain that there has not been a single conversation you and I have ever had that, regardless of topic, sounded anything like that."

"Harry's a very sexy gay man, Perry, for a straight man. And you are a very sexy gay man, for a... gay man. Harry, if you were gay, you'd think Perry was hot, wouldn't you?"

"Objectively? I mean, aesthetically, Perry is—"

"Okay, everybody gets to shut up now." Perry looked at Harmony, who was giggling on the floor. "Harmony, you understand that, fun and games aside, I'm gay, and Harry's straight, and you're straight, and that's that, right?"

Harmony sat up and took Perry's hand in hers. "Perry, do you want a blowjob?"

"What?!" Harry and Perry managed in unison.

Harmony rolled her eyes at Harry. "Not from you, Harry! From me."

Perry patted her hand. "Honey, you've known me for over a year, and yet somehow, tonight, you've blocked out the whole 'gay' part."

"No, I really haven't. Gay, straight, or undecided, I have never known a man to refuse a blowjob. So, go ahead, Perry; tell me you're going to turn me down." She glanced quickly down at his crotch and then raised an eyebrow. "On second thought, don't even bother."

Harry, watching all of this, shifted a little bit. "Uh...."

Perry smirked, relieving the awkwardness a little. "I knew the thought of Harmony with another man would get you going."

"Well, congratulations, you were right, and now I want a blowjob too."

"I'm not sucking you off!"

"I don't _want_ you to suck me off!"

"Will the two of you stop for a minute?" Harmony took Harry's hand in her free one. "All we have to do is agree that whatever happens tonight will never, ever, ever affect our friendships, or your working relationship, or our marriage."

Harry looked at Perry, carefully avoiding anything below his neck, and then at Harmony, whose face and neck were flushed and who was looking at him the way she did just before they had staggeringly good sex. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and closed it again.

Perry stood up. "Fuck it to the quantum level." He pulled Harmony up as well, with Harry stumbling to his feet after her. "If we're going to do this, it will not involve rug burn. We're going upstairs."

Harry froze as he watched Perry and Harmony slowly make their way up the staircase. "Are you...are you both insane? The only way this could end well has to involve some kind of...of...demonic blood pact!"

* * *

_So, remember the part where I said those kind of agreements never work?_

_I don't often admit this, but sometimes I'm wrong._

* * *

"Terms." Perry was taking out his cufflinks, and Harmony was stretching out over the California king bed, absently fingering the edges of a pillow sham.

Harry, watching Harmony, was only half-listening. "Uh. What?"

"We need to set terms for tonight." Harry looked over at him dazedly. Perry sighed in annoyance as he sat down on the bed and removed his shirt, putting the cufflinks in a small bowl on his nightstand. "What are you willing you do, what don't you want done to you, that kind of thing."

Harry jumped right in on that. "Uh, I would prefer not to have your uh... or..."

"You don't want me to fuck you up the ass and you don't want to blow me."

"Uh, I think, I think everyone's night will be far more pleasant if we avoid those two options, yes. More specifically, my night. And even more specifically than that, my life."

"Okay; too much talking." Harmony pulled Perry back by his shoulders, pushed him down into the pillows, straddled his waist, and undid his slacks. "Close your eyes and pretend I'm Harry."

"Harmony's wearing white to the wedding, by the way."

"Can I close my eyes and pretend that you're Liam Neeson?"

Harry paused in the middle of pulling his jeans off. "Liam Neeson? Really? I kinda thought you would be, you know, a Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, sandwich kind of guy."

Perry raised an eyebrow. "You like the Damon and Affleck thing, huh?"

"Ha ha ha no. I just thought maybe that could be your thing, or whatever."

"You've thought about my thing, Harry. I'm impressed."

Harmony leaned up and kissed Perry on the cheek. "Shut up." She slid his pants off completely and ran her hands back up his thighs. "Oh, boxer-briefs! Harry, look: boxer-briefs! I told you they were hot. Aren't they hot?"

Harry looked up to find the somewhat surreal sight of a nearly naked and half-hard Perry lying on his back, eyes closed, with Harmony stroking Perry's... half-hardness through his boxer-briefs. "I can't—" he cleared his throat, "I can't really judge, uh, at the moment." Harmony mouthed Perry's cock through his underwear and Harry rasped out "Oh, my God" and Harmony pulled the boxer-briefs out of the way and licked around and around the head of Perry's cock. Perry started clutching at the duvet and pumping shallowly in and out of Harmony's mouth, and Harry stripped off what was left of his clothing.

Humming low in her throat, Harmony took all of Perry in, and he arched up hard. "Oh, Jesus."

After a few thrusts, Harmony sat back and away; Perry grunted and panted in frustration. "See," Harmony whispered to Harry, "I told you it would be fine."

"Ungh—"

"Harmony, please...." Perry gritted through his teeth, and Harmony, on her knees, went all the way down in one move. Perry shouted something loud and entirely incoherent, and Harry scrambled up onto the bed and then froze, assessing his possible entry points.

* * *

_Yes, I'm breaking up the erotic flow of this scene, it sucks to be you right now, but I couldn't let that line go by without explaining that yes, I know that is a completely lame joke. I'm keeping it and I won't apologize, either. Okay, as you were, however you were right then. Sorry if you were in Your Special Place._

* * *

Harmony gently slid her mouth off of Perry's cock and said "Oh my God, Harry, just fuck me already."

"What... uh, doggy-style?"

Perry, looking very frustrated at being interrupted when he was so close, still managed to choke out a laugh. "Did you just say ' _doggy-style_ '?"

"Hey, I'm trying to figure out some spatial relations here... I mean, honey, I don't see how I can get underneath you without sort of, hanging halfway off the bed upside-down, so doggy-style is probably—"

"Just fuck me already, Harry! God!"

"Okay, okay!" Harry pushed her skirt and ripped off her thong and holy fucking Christ she was wet from sucking Perry off. Perry had been right: knowing Harmony was turning on, and getting turned on by, another man was making him very, very hot. Dammit. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her as she went down on Perry again.

The three of them made a wide variety of sounds, not unlike a completely out-of-tune orchestra with no sense of rhythm. Harry's ever-faster thrusting pushed Harmony into a different rhythm with Perry; he twisted and she groaned deep in her throat and he shouted as he came. Harry watched in fascination as Perry's face changed and changed. And then, as Perry came down the other side, Harmony started licking him clean and Harry pumped his hips faster and faster and came, gasping, mouth agape, with hot ice racing through his body.

Harmony was panting and rubbing herself against Perry as Harry twitched his post-orgasm thrusts into her. Then, aware again, Harry slid one hand up under Harmony's top to cup a breast and run his thumb around and around her nipple. He maneuvered his other hand between Perry's thighs to push it under her clit and rub the heel of his thumb against it. He could feel his knuckles rubbing against Perry's cock, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Harmony writhed and moaned, her lips red and her face flushed, and Harry watched as Perry pressed himself up on his palms, leaned forward, and kissed her good and hard. Harry's eyes widened and he rocked his hand against her clit faster and faster, and Harmony came, twitching between them, with tiny "oh"s escaping into Perry's mouth.

Harry rested his cheek against Harmony's sweaty back, planting little kisses along her shoulder. The three of them lay in a pile for a time, panting or recovering or dozing, until Perry said "Get off me; the two of you weigh a fucking ton." Harry flopped, ungracefully, off of Harmony and onto his back. Harmony smiled and slid off Perry to other side.

"I bet the two of us together don't weigh as much as Liam Neeson," Harry said.

"Well, you'd know, being a connoisseur of The Gay Man's Fantasy Figures."

"Blow me."

"I'll pass, after where you've been tonight." But if Perry could ever be said to have a big stupid grin on his face, he had a big stupid grin on his face.

"See," Harmony yawned, "that wasn't nearly as awful as the two of you tried to make it sound like it would be." She turned on her side and slung an arm over Perry's chest, stroking Harry's face with her hand. He took it in his own and kissed her fingers.

They zoned out for a while, until Harry said "Hey. Hey. Perry, you didn't do anything." He looked at Perry, who was either asleep or doing a damned good job of pretending to be. Harry poked him in the ribs. "Perry, you didn't do anything."

Perry's eyes half-opened and he tilted his head; he and Harry were nearly nose-to-nose. "What?"

"You didn't do anything. You just got done to. That's... unequal distribution of labor."

Perry rolled his head back and shut his eyes again. "Jesus, Harry, it's four o'clock in the morning. I'm drunk, I'm exhausted, and I'm in bed with not one, but two straight people. What, do you want from me?"

"I don't know; I'm just pointing out that this was supposed to be a team effort, thing. And you didn't really pull your weight."

"Team effort."

"Yeah. You know, Harmony put some effort into this—"

"Lots of effort," came a very sleepy voice from the other side of Perry.

"Lots of effort, and I was, you know, uh, active, but you didn't do anything except lie back and think of Liam Neeson."

"George Clooney. I switched. Can't go wrong with Clooney."

"Clooney's a good choice. But we're supposed to be a team, Perry."

"Perry, kiss Harry."

Both men frowned, and Perry turned to face Harmony, while Harry lifted up on one elbow to see her over Perry's chest. She had her eyes closed, and looked kind of boneless, but was obviously awake because she said "Kiss. Harry." again, very clearly.

"Uh, Harmony, Perry kissed me once—"

"Yeah, I was there, remember?"

"—and it isn't exactly up there in my top ten joyful experiences."

"You'd known him for three days, he hated your guts, and you'd just thrown a corpse off a roof." She sighed. "Look, if you're all miffed that Perry didn't have to do anything tonight except lie back and think of Clooney, let him kiss you, and then we can all get some sleep."

Harry looked at Perry, and Perry looked at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever."

Perry smirked and leaned over.

"Shithead."

"Fag."

Perry kissed him.

* * *

_And there you have it, devoted readers: "What Happened After the Credits Rolled." Oh yeah— Perry and Harmony planned the whole wedding themselves, which, fuck the 50" wall-mounted plasma screen, was the best wedding gift I got by far. Perry was my best man, and Harmony wore white at the wedding, and no, Perry didn't come with us on our honeymoon because, hello, give me a break, that's ridiculous. So, I hope you enjoyed our little sequel, please tip your waitress. I gotta go set terms for tonight. I mean, I gotta go. ( **NOTE TO SELF** : take this part out.)_

  



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